


Watching Over Me

by lucdarling



Series: Hellmouth [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/pseuds/lucdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha learns her patrol buddy wasn't sent by her Watcher & Coulson has some strong words to say as soon as the sun goes down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching Over Me

“You know,” Natasha opened the conversation as she took a seat on the library table. “I don’t actually need help on these patrols. The worst I’ve seen so far is that infestation of Sluk demons, which Tony and I handled just fine.”

“You got the entire senior class drunk on cheap vodka.” Coulson corrected dryly, taking notes from a large tome. Natasha dropped her books next to her as she laughed and swung her feet.

“There’s no better kind, where I come from. And it worked with no one the wiser; they just thought they drank too much. Pepper can be scary when she’s telling you what you don't remember doing,” Natasha said thoughtfully. “But honestly Coulson, I’m no longer a child. I can take care of myself, so send your archer boy back home.”

The Watcher looked up from the dusty pages suddenly. “Archer? As far as I’m aware, you’ve been doing these patrols by yourself. Is that not the case?”

Natasha made a face. “He’s funny sure, and I guess he’s helpful, but- Hey!” She broke off as Coulson stood and went behind the desk to retrieve something. “I was in the middle of talking to you.”

Coulson held up a hand and Natasha shut her mouth. The man laid a small, thick book next to the Vampyr text and began rapidly flipping through the pages. “Weapons, bow and arrow, page...” He mused, eyes skimming the text.

“Is that an index?” asked Natasha, peering over the other side of the desk and reading the list upside down as best she could.

“You didn’t think this was the only text on the species, did you?” Coulson smiled benignly. “There are at least two volumes on the greater known vampires throughout history. Either how they’ve successfully blended in with humans or more often, torn their way through cities. And your friend can be found in volume one, it looks like.”

“He’s not my friend,” Natasha muttered as Coulson walked over to the cage of books kept under lock and key. Then the bell rang and she ran out the library double doors.

“He just helps you kill vampires out of the goodness of his undead heart?” Coulson said to her retreating back as he set an over-sized book on the table Natasha had been sitting on. “I doubt that.”

\- -

  


As soon as Phil had a description of who was accompanying his Slayer on her nightly patrols and sent her back to class, he developed a headache that threatened to become a migraine every time the school bell clanged. He waited until the sun set exactly at 6:43PM before knocking on the door of the well-kept house on the rougher side of town.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Phil demanded as the door opened.

“I’m standing in my home,” Clint smiled toothily at the man and gestured. “Will you walk into my parlor?”

“Said the spider to the fly,” Phil finished, stepping over the threshold. “How apt.” He followed Clint through the front hall and into the kitchen, where the vampire picked up a mug that definitely wasn’t coffee. Phil wrinkled his nose at the smell of blood and the vampire chuckled.

“What do you want, Watcher?” The title was spoken with a sneer.

“I want you to stop shadowing Natasha on her patrols.” He fingered the bottle of holy water in his pocket. If things got ugly, Phil was reasonably sure he could uncap it before his throat got torn out. He knew he was taking a chance bringing the weapon into the home of a vampire, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Clint chuckled at Phil’s blunt words. “She likes me hanging around, I can tell. She even deigned to tell me to watch my back. It was cute.” He took a sip from his mug and licked his teeth clean, blue eyes staring straight into Phil’s.

“You mean, she doesn’t know what you are?” Phil was a little dumbstruck, and he hoped it didn’t show on his face.

“That’s the thing about Slayer senses. It takes a while for them to develop to pick out the vampire standing next to you isn’t also the gut-tingly feeling the one rising from the grave is giving you. I’m sure she’ll figure it out soon and wow, it’s going to be fun!” Phil’s fingers clenched around the glass bottle.

Clint’s eyes were drawn to the movement, flicking down to watch as Phil pulled the bottle out and held it up in front of him. “Really?” Clint sounded amused and he took another swallow of blood. “Phil, Phil, Phil,” he chided. The man swung his arm back to douse the vampire -

And found himself pressed against the kitchen wall, held up by a pale hand clenched tight around his throat.

“You know who I am, you know what I’ve done.” The vampire growled. “I bet I’ve earned at least a page in those record books of yours.” Clint’s face changed to its creature visage. “Why would you even think you had a chance, a puny human armed with a little bottle of blessed water.”

“Three pages, actually.” Phil corrected. The holy water was a puddle on the floor, mixing with the shards of white mug. The water was pink.

“I invite you into my home and you try to burn me?” Clint cocked his head. “Is that really the best decision? I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“Stay away from my Slayer, Barton.” Phil managed to choke out as the hand tightened.

“You don’t give orders to me, Watcher.” Clint let Phil drop the floor like a rag doll. “Now do me a favor and get out before I decide to do something I might not regret.”

Phil coughed, gasping as the yellow eyes just watched. Clint’s face relaxed and he looked human again as he grasped Phil’s arm, hauling him up to his feet. The Watcher was shoved none too gently onto the front porch and began stumbling down the steps.

“Watch the flowerbeds now,” Clint called to his back. Phil straightened his suit jacket and didn’t respond. He didn’t step on the flowers, though. There were some things you didn’t do in life, and angering an undead creature that was more than four times your age was certainly one of them.

\- -

  


“I thought he was a human!” Natasha didn’t quite yell and Coulson gave her an unimpressed look.

“Do we need to work on your Slayer senses? You had absolutely no trouble pegging Bruce when you arrived in town but you can’t tell that the man helping you slay young and stupid vampires is a vampire himself?” Coulson opened the book about a third of the way and turned back a handful of pages. Natasha bit her lip at the image that stared up at the two of them.

An artist had drawn a very good likeness of the marksman who Natasha had gotten accustomed to bantering with. There was a page of text opposite and the young woman read along with her mentor:

_ Clinton Barton _  
_estimated turning date mid-1780s_  
 _no known associates_  
 _favors archery weapons and killing other hostile sub-terrestrials over humans_  
 _rumored to be a former member of Demon Research Initiative before disappearing off the Council radar_

Coulson tapped a lean finger on the hand-drawn picture. “That’s your friend?”

“He’s not my friend, for the last time.” Natasha growled even as she nodded her head. “Can I stake him tonight, then?”

“If you can manage it, be my guest,” Coulson’s lips thinned and he read aloud from the bottom of the page. “ _Barton has proven a worthwhile ally when it suits him. He has no regard for the Council or its members on a long-term basis and usually makes this fact clear by gruesomely killing the liaison. This includes one Slayer, Mary Halprin, in 1963, Los Angeles._ ”

“Ah,” Natasha responded eloquently. “At least he appears to like me for now.” She shrugged and the bell rang, cutting off any reply Coulson might have wanted to make. Natasha smiled at the older man, picked up her book bag and went to join the stream of students in the hallway outside the library.

Coulson remained, hunched over the page and staring at the inked image and the details of what the Council knew about Barton’s actions throughout history. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, feeling the phantom pressure of a hand there.


End file.
